Then this: http://finance.yahoo.com/news/AIG-executive-sentenced-to-4-apf-14168709.html

Discuss.

Pat Robertson proves he has balls; conservative douchebags set to close pocketbooks
In a surprising move, Pat Robertson has chastised fellow right-wing ignoramus Rush Limbaugh for saying he hopes Barack Obama fails. I wonder how much this is going to cost the 700 Club?

Bristol Palin can’t keep it in her pants
No, that ache you’re feeling in your chest isnt heartburn, its the resurgence of the Palin clan on the national airwaves. Apparently young Bristol and her mother are not on the same page when it comes to abstinence. It’s simply “not realistic.” Oh snap!

Target came in a close 2nd, Macy’s in 3rd, with Sears (ew) JCPenny (double-ew) and Kohl’s (gag-me-with-a-spoon) falling in last.

My choice would of course be Bloomies.

Click here for the deets.

I’ll be somewhere in the yellow shaded area… Watch for me

I was a regular Tonya Harding. Gliding blissfully, swinging my arms back and forth without a care in the world. The girls were too busy putting “thought” into the act of ice skating that they spent most of their time ice stomping rather than ice skating. I continuously mocked them as I lapped them until they decided they were “over it” and I made the decision to go a few more rounds. After two laps I considered taking of my skates- No, I thought, let’s go one more!

A decision I will  regret for a while. I was barely into the next lap when I hit what can only be described as a ravine (albeit small) in the ice. I went down…hard. The right knee went straight into the ice and my forehead as well. I had seen people falling all day, but generally you know you are going down and have time to add a bit of grace to your landing. I did not. I knew it was ugly based on the resounding chorus of “ooooooo’s” that followed. I gathered my composure (and what was left of my dignity) and hobbled over to the exit… and the girls.

Thank God they did not see me, I did not need that kind of humiliation in my life. As the day progressed the knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit and became unbendable (sp?). After a few days and several thousand milligrams of ibuprofen, the swelling was almost completely gone and the knee was once again functioning. It was still sore, which I attributed to the massive trauma it had received in the injury. I figured a few more days and everything would be peachy.

I woke up Tuesday morning to the knee fully swollen and once again unbendable(starting to like this word). When I attempted to bend it, it felt as if my kneecap was pressing against my skin and ready to pop out. Realizing that the knee is nothing to fool around with, I decided to see a doctor immediately. When he first looked at it he mumbled something to me that sounded like “blaaaablaaatendonblaaablaa.” Then ordered x-rays. X-rays came back normal; his concern moved to a possible infection and therefore subscribed me an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory.

The words that followed sent shivers down my spine. “Come back and see me in 5 days and if the swelling isn’t gone we will have to stick a needle in it.” Wait a minute…WHAT?! I’m not sure theres room for a needle in a persons knee, where does it go?? I spent the next half hour feeling around and no, that is not a possibility. I have chicken legs for Christ sake!! This cannot be good…

Was my “magical” afternoon in Central Park worth it? I think not. $25 to skate + $25 office copay + $20 Rx medications = $70 (thus far) on top of the actual injured knee.

I blame the girls. For sucking on the ice so bad that I was forced to show them how it’s really done. Enjoy your healthy joints..skanks.

I ask because ole’ NFB has landed himself two tickets to the inauguration! Out of thousands of requests in my congressional district I was one of the 50 names chosen to recieve a ticket for myself and a guest. Kings to me!

Obviously I am as giddy as a schoolgirl. I’m thinking I should probably wear something that will properly display my enthusiasm and excitement to be present during this historic moment. Therefore I was considering…

My current office view. The Empire State Building is 10 blocks north of us…see it?

Blizzard.

I’m generally not afraid of mice. Having had a pet hamster for 2 years there is a special place in my heart for members of the rodentia order. I find them to be semi-harmless creatures and for the most part, cute. Mickey couldn’t have been more than a month old, and because I am a vocal supporter of the prevention of cruelty to animals (that is unless they are being stunned, slaughered-while-live, shot-up, processed, and packaged for my consumption) I decided that I could not bring myself to kill the fella but would opt instead to provide for his gentle release back into the wild. Long story short..stupid mouse had to be a bitch and ran off when I tried capturing him in a piece of tupperware (in which I had no intention of reusing). He left me with no choice but to set a few traps and pray that his blood splatter didn’t stain my beautifully polished tile floors.

Morning came and the gruesome scene I expected in the kitchen was non-existent. Mickey was either too dumb to realize peanut butter was food, or smart enough to know that nibbling on it would snap his little head right off. I was relieved, but also growing impatient. I decided to take a peek into his cabinet and there he was. Although I could not hear it, I knew he was laughing at me. I decided to enlist one of the before-mentioned worthless roommates to assist me in his capture. This time with a large bag and a broom. Newsflash: Mice can hop. No, JUMP. We swept him into the bag and the little guy starts jumping in upwards of a foot in the air trying to get out of the bag. After 10 seconds of schoolgirl screaming I close the bag, run downstairs and release him.

We didn’t see Mickey again for about a week. Due to the high number of critters roaming the cracks and crevices of our little corner of hell, my peripheral vision is sharp as a tack. I spotted Mickey (with only the light of the Christmas tree) dashing across the living room and into the kitchen. It was at that point I decided my epathy with rodentia could not continue. Traps have been set, but Mickey has yet to meet his demise at the face of one. I am somewhat concerned that Micky has a few hundred brothers and sisters just waiting to invade once he sends word that the tenants in Apt. 3 don’t have the balls to kill them.

To be continued…

The trip home was….busy. I was happy to get to see everyone; family, friends, the regulars at the V.F.W….. I’m glad I made the trip but I was reminded every day the reason why I left that place. There are a lot of people there I love, it has nothing to do with them. I sometimes wish they would all get together and decide to move somewhere else…ANYWHERE really. A friend of mine and I have always talked about this “spirit” or “dark cloud” that resides over our hometown and every time we go back it eats away at us like a slowly progressing mental illness. My mother claims this spirit/cloud is between my two ears….what does she know?

I’ll be back in 2 weeks. The duration of the next trip is a day longer than this one. I’m thinking I’ll probably fashion myself a helmet out of tin foil in an attempt to delay the evil spirits feast on my sanity. I’ll be sure to post pictures.

Game 1 of the doubleheader-home-to-Illinois series has ended and unfortunately the game went into overtime. I departed from Evansville at approximately 4:50 PM and stepped foot in my apartment shortly after 3:30 AM. Funsies. Of course I had a connection in Cincinatti; for some reason there isn’t a direct flight from Evansville to New York..go figure. New York airspace is a prescious commodity. There are 4 airports in a 30 mile radius, international flights take priority, so flights in (especially over a holiday) are often delayed/cancelled, or circle the city for hours until there is somewhere to land. This, and a combination of less than ideal weather conditions caused my flight out of Cincinatti to be delayed several times.

We landed at LaGuardia a little after 1 AM and then proceeded to sit on the tarmac for over an hour. Apparently the ONE place we could dock was being occupied by another plane having weight issues, thus we were forced to wait. Finally, at a little after 2 AM I found myself standing beside the “Your approximate wait time for a taxi from this point is 45 minutes” sign. God love New York. I live about 10 minutes from LaGuardia, which is both a blessing and a curse but at 3 AM with work that day it is a blessing…unless your cabbie is a total bitch.

Mine was. I told him where I was headed and he proceeded to yell at me for it “not being a good fare for him.” Basically he wanted a $45 fare to Manhattan but instead he was going to get a $12 fare to Astoria. Having had the day I had, I was in no mood for his attitude. He then yelled something about waiting in the taxi line for 25 minutes and this was all he got. I proceeded to inform him that I had spent the past 10 hours in airports or on airplanes and that he could kiss my shit-scabbed asshole because I did not give a mother fu&%#*#^^%@(@ about the day he had had. He retaliated by conveniently getting lost and forgetting where the street I live on was located. That cost him his tip.